


Your feathers and paws

by dragon_rider



Category: Letterkenny (TV), The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/pseuds/dragon_rider
Summary: They were in the middle of Temeria, a ways away from any village or semblance of civilization, when Wayne got up suddenly, stiff as always but ready to spring into action, as a whiff of beast and danger reached his nose.From the bushes he’d disappeared into to relieve himself, Jaskier came back cradling something in his arms and cooing to it as if it were a human babe.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Your feathers and paws

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AxmxZ (Boanerges)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boanerges/gifts).



> thanks to [elder-flower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elder_flower/pseuds/elder-flower) for betaing as always and thanks [AmZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boanerges/pseuds/AxmxZ) for the commission! I hope it's not terribly disappointing D:

There was no rule against having a travel companion, and the bard Wayne had met in Posada was certainly an interesting one to have, once he stopped singing about touchy subjects like abortion and dedicated his time to composing about their adventures. Jaskier was horribly inaccurate in his retelling of Wayne’s contracts, but the tunes were catchy and the lyrics easy to follow, and townsfolk loved both his music and his charisma.

A chance encounter with Garry, his fellow Witcher and friend, had informed Wayne that Jaskier’s music had helped not only him in getting a more positive reception in towns, but other Witchers as well. The stories the bard sang were about Wayne alone, but still mentioned his guild often enough for his peers to benefit from his unexpected fame. It was unnerving, but also kind of nice.

_ Respect doesn’t make history _ , the bard had sagely declared the one time Wayne had tried to argue with him about being truthful. To date, the Witcher could not fault Jaskier’s logic. Begrudgingly, he’d realized Jaskier acted like a godsdamned fool most of the time, but in a way only the smartest people could get away with.

They were in the middle of Temeria, a ways away from any village or semblance of civilization, when Wayne got up suddenly, stiff as always but ready to spring into action, as a whiff of  _ beast _ and  _ danger _ reached his nose.

From the bushes he’d disappeared into to relieve himself, Jaskier came back cradling something in his arms and cooing to it as if it were a human babe.

“Jaskier,” Wayne deadpanned. His travel companion had the self-preservation instincts of a suicidal, fanatical knight and he still wasn’t used to it. “That’s an infant Griffin. Let it go, we need to get the hell outta dodge before its mother comes lookin’ for it.”

Said infant Griffin tweeted, seemingly innocent, and Jaskier pressed a kiss to its forehead that made it ruffle its feathers in something like delight as it looked up at the stubborn bard.

“Jaskier! That’s a monster!” Wayne exclaimed plainly, starting to pack up their camp hurriedly, scowling so hard it was a challenge even seeing stuff in front of his face. “We need to  _ go _ or we’ll be toast.”

“Don’t listen to the mean Witcher, darling,” Jaskier soothed the creature, petting it and smirking at Wayne when it burrowed into his neck. “He means no harm, he’s a well-meaning brute, I promise! All bark and no bite!”

“I’ll show you my bite, bard.” Wayne stepped into Jaskier’s personal bubble, meaning to grab for the beast, since his travel companion was about to get them both into loads of trouble and probably killed. “Give it here, you idiot! It looks cute now, but when it grows it’ll play with you while it eats you alive. Griffins are known for toying with their prey, and guess what, you are prey to them. I am too, unless I kill them first. They swoop down from the sky and dig inside ya with their talons and beak until they’ve weakened you enough to carry off.”

All his lecturing got him was Jaskier snorting in amusement, darting away from his hands as they tried to grab the baby Griffin, which just chirped and batted its wings as if in excitement.

“Are you honestly scared of this little one?” Jaskier asked. “If you just let me explain instead of trying to slay a perfectly innocent creature, you’d realize you’re mistaken.”

Wayne huffed, rolling his eyes, and decided to stop trying to get rid of the thing. He drew his silver sword, scanning the cloudy sky above their heads for any signs of the deadly mother looking for its offspring, mutated ears straining to hear it coming too.

“He came to me on his own and I looked, okay?” Jaskier pointed an accusatory finger at him. Wayne just squinted harder at him. “I looked for the mother, I wasn’t about to separate a family! But I swear on Melitele’s graciousness that there were no signs of her, only some-” the bard dropped his voice to a whisper, and covered the sides of the creature’s head with one hand, while the other kept it securely held against his chest. “Some blood and feathers, and a mess of twigs and leaves! He’s an orphan, Wayne, can’t you see he needs us?”

“You’re right about one thing,” Wayne conceded, still squinting up so they wouldn’t get pounced on by its mother without some warning, at least. “We’ll make a very rich, nutritious, hearty meal for it once it gets big enough to have us, and being orphaned so young is gonna cause it at least partial malnourishment so it’ll definitely need us to get bigger.”

If maybe he was avoiding Jaskier’s watery, pleading eyes, that was his own business.

Wayne prowled around the clearing, alert and ready, and freed his horse without looking, in case he couldn’t protect his mount. Griffins liked eating horses an awful lot. He should probably mention that to Jaskier, he was very fond of the horse.

“You’re anthropomorphising a predator, Jaskier,” he tried again, talking more quickly to explain himself at the bard’s confused expression. “You’re giving a beast human attributes it doesn’t have. It doesn’t need your care, or anyone’s, if it lives, then it lives. Only the strongest survive, nature’s wise like that. Griffins don’t take care of their offspring for long anyway, it’d be on its own soon, with or without its mother, but a much bigger, more dangerous Griffin will come for us if we have it.”

“She’s dead, Wayne, could you stop doing that? You’re scaring Albert,” Jaskier chastised him, stubborn as a mule, pushing at Wayne’s sword arm to try and lower it. “If he shows any signs of aggression we’ll let him go, how about that?”

Mouth turning into a line almost as thin as his eyes, Wayne wracked his brain for another approach, something the bard would care about enough to listen to him for once.

“Yeah, you’ll see I’m right when you end up with half your fingers eaten by it,” he pointed out, nonchalant. “Guess you’ll need to find a new profession, bards can’t go around playing lutes with missing fingers.”

“Albert would not eat my fingers!” Jaskier screeched, indignant. “He loves me, and would not eat any part of me! You’re just jealous because you never get to pet any sort of animal!” the bard accused, triumphant when he saw Wayne’s already squared shoulders climbing up his neck. “Yes, I saw how you pouted after that stray dog didn’t let you touch it, not even after you offered it jerky!”

“That’s a low blow,” Wayne complained, sheathing his sword with a sigh. 

This was clearly a losing battle at the moment, and he reached out with a resigned finger to touch the thing’s tiny beak. It chirped at him but didn’t move away, looking up at him with big, beady eyes.

“See? Albert is an angel,” Jaskier proclaimed proudly. “He’s soft, isn’t he?”

Wayne had never petted a Griffin, adult or infant, just killed quite a few. It turned out its feathers were smooth, and the small Griffin preened, tweeting at him.

“He wants you to pet him more, Wayne,” Jaskier told the Witcher.

“You can’t understand it, Jaskier,” Wayne countered. “It could be deciding where to bite us.”

“Oh yes, so menacing,” the bard laughed and the thing, treacherous little bastard, cocked its tiny head and chirped in Wayne’s direction, sounding… demanding?

“Fuck’s sake,” Wayne huffed, giving in and caressing the creature’s forehead with the tip of his index finger.

It seemed to melt under his touch, warbling happily, almost song-like.

He guessed they had a pet now. A murderous, feathery little pet.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm taking fic commissions! more details over here, on my [tumblr](https://dragonjaskier.tumblr.com/post/638157281915174912/commissions-open).


End file.
